


I Don't Understand

by Morsmordre



Series: Domestic!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Gen, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morsmordre/pseuds/Morsmordre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean thinks it's time Cas had a new set of clothes, Cas feels kinda guilty, and Dean comes dangerously close to talking about his... feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Understand

**Author's Note:**

> Cas' POV

“Cas,” Dean says, with a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not John Constantine anymore.”

I don’t understand that reference.

“I... um... yes, Dean,” I say, nodding. He knows I don’t understand his pop culture references, and I have long since learned that saying so is not a deterrent. Besides, apparently he and Sam plan on “educating” me soon.

Dean huffs a laugh, removing his hand and stepping back. I know he’s laughing at me. It bothers me how I seem to be the source of comedic relief in the bunker, though I have never found the words to express myself, and so I don’t try.

“So take it off,” he says, gesturing at myself.

I stare at him in confusion. Is this another reference?

“Your coat. You don’t need it anymore, man. Come on, you look like a flasher.” There’s still laughter in his eyes, though this time it seems fonder. I don’t mind that kind.

“I don’t know what a flasher is, Dean.”

He sighs and turns away, and I worry for a moment that I have upset him somehow. Perhaps he has tired of my lack of understanding. Being human is difficult.

“Dude, just take the friggin’ coat off. Why’d you like it so much anyway?”

I look down at myself. I don’t understand Dean’s aversion to my clothing, or why it bothers him.

“Look, you’re gonna have to change your clothes now. That’s how it works.”

Oh.

I shrug the coat off my shoulders and fold it, holding it awkwardly. Am I expected to take all my clothes off?

Dean sighs, smiling again, takes the coat from me and throws it carelessly on his bed. I sigh.

“Okay, that’s a start. You’ve had those clothes on ya since you put on Jimmy’s meatsuit. It’s time for a change, right?”

Exactly. I would feel naked without them. Which... I suppose is rather the point, but in a different way. Jimmy’s clothes feel a part of me now.

A part of who I was.

I nod.

“I have no other clothing, Dean.”

“What, you think I brought you to my room so we could get our freak on?” he says, turning around to rummage through his drawers. I stay silent, curious and unsure what to say.

He turns around with a few clothes in his arms. Plaid shirts and jeans, mostly. He hesitates and grabs underwear too, though begrudgingly.

“You can have my clothes,” he says, looking at me with a smile. “Well, until we get you some of your own, okay?”

I smile slightly, nod again. It’s... nice. The idea. It makes everything more real. The ad-seller’s clothing was my angel self’s second suit. They were a part of me.

Humanity is a part of me now. The Winchesters. If I am to fit in with the Winchesters, live with the Winchesters, and be a Winchester... I must begin to dress like a Winchester. I find myself not minding the thought.

Dean grins, seemingly happy.

“Right, so, uh... I’ll leave you to it,” he says, walking towards the door. When he reaches me, he stops and turns awkwardly.

“Cas?” he asks, somewhat timidly. It’s strange.

“Yes, Dean?”

I meet his eyes and see him, really see him. His expression is open and guileless, the innocence in his eyes almost disarming. He seems worried and long-suffering and I am reminded of all the hardships he has been through. Everything John Winchester had put him through, what he had put himself through, circumstance, life... everything I had put him through. I want to apologise again. I know that my feeble “sorry”’s will never be enough, and it breaks my heart. I don’t know how to apologise. I can’t make things better. This isn’t something I could ever have healed with a simple touch. I don’t know what to do.

“Don’t... don’t leave again. Okay?” he asks, looking away, embarrassed.

I think of all the times I have left him. Time and time again. I think of all the people who have left him. How lonely he must feel, even with Sam by his side, even with me trying. I know he thinks it’s his fault.

He looks back up at me, with panic in his eyes. I realise I haven’t responded. Words seem to fail me as I open my mouth and shut it. I wish I could make his pain go.

I do something I’ve never done before, except for when I had lost my mind.

With a step forward, I grab Dean and hold him close. A “hug”. An embrace. An apology. A promise.

He seems shocked for a moment, standing still. I worry if I have done something wrong again. But then he holds me back, buries his face in my shoulder.

“I will never leave you again, Dean,” I whisper into his shoulder, holding him tighter. I’ve never felt this need before. The need for physical contact. But as I hold Dean, and he holds me, I find it difficult to let go. I don’t want to let go.

“I... Cas, I...” Dean starts, but then he pushes away. I feel cold without him. I am hit with how strange humanity is, once again.

“Alright, good,” he says gruffly, forcing a laugh again and running a hand through his hair. “So, uh... yeah, pick what you wanna wear and I’ll uh... there’ll be some coffee or beer or whatever downstairs, okay?”

I stand there, staring. I’ve been told I stare a lot. It unnerves people. I tear my gaze away and stare at the floor instead.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I just,” he starts again, and I look up. What has Dean to apologise for? “Get dressed and then we can start brainwashin’ you with Star Wars, okay?” he smiles, and I smile back weakly, turning towards the clothes.

It is when I feel a harsh slap on my backside and let out a yelp I notice him leaving. It is when I hear a snort and retreating footsteps that I begin to wonder if I will ever understand Dean Winchester.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, so this is the second fanfiction I've ever written. Let me know what you think? Thanks! ^_^"


End file.
